


as cornflower, as crystal

by plumtrees



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Fluff, Kindaichi is a fisherman's son, Kunimi is a merman, M/M, Merpeople
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumtrees/pseuds/plumtrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 6 for KinKuni Week: Firsts</p><p>-</p><p>It is a warm summer day the first time Kunimi sees a human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Kunimi wriggles out of the jellied shell of his egg, he’s smaller than the rest of the hatchlings, just barely larger than his brothers’ hands cupped together. They used to worry constantly about his lethargy, but soon learn that it’s more of a personality quirk than any actual sickness.

He grows up loved and protected, in the company of two older brothers who are the strongest of the catch. Oikawa’s and Matsukawa’s tails gleam iridescent ivory and mint under sun and moon, decidedly more eye-catching than his own blue and white. It suits Kunimi just fine, and he easily ignores his brothers’ jokes about how he can blend into the ocean if he so desired.

And yet, as older brothers are wont to do, they religiously warn him of the lurking dangers both within and beyond the ocean. Kunimi is not at all a notorious for swimming away or separating from his brothers, but still they repeat tales of fear and horror to him every night, until he can practically recite them word for word.

Most often, they talk about humans. His brothers say they come in cold, dead vessels that darken the sky as they pass. Oikawa in particular likes to mime how they swoop in and catch schools of fish unaware, his large fins opening and closing, the thin webbing between his phalanges flexing as he tells him about the weighted nets that are impossible to escape from.

Matsukawa then talks about the more gruesome weapons, of barbed poles and hooks that float near the surface, a tempting meal hanging from its curve. He shows Kunimi the scar on his upper lip; tells him of how the human on the other end of the line just barely managed to get him above the surface, the shock of catching a glimpse of a merman causing his hold on the weapon to go slack, allowing Matsukawa an escape.

They teach him how to fight back too, in case he encounters one. “A human can’t survive the ocean’s embrace, Kunimi.” Oikawa says as his lips curl in sadistic glee. He leans in, like he’s sharing a particularly vicious secret. “If they swallow enough ocean water, it will kill them.”

Kunimi nods, eyes abnormally wide in genuine interest. Oikawa’s uses Matsukawa to demonstrate how he drowned a human, once, and Kunimi diligently notes every single one of his tips.

Many images come to mind when Kunimi hears their stories, but the most predominant one is a creature with sharp fangs and hooked, retractable metal claws, emerging from the floating carcass of a dead, rotting whale.

Kunimi isn’t sure if this truly is what humans look like, but he hopes he never has to find out.

 

-

 

It is a warm summer day the first time Kunimi sees a human. 

His brothers are swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, playfully smacking tails with them and chirping in their language. Kunimi stays perched on an algae-covered rock, watching with heavy lids as they have their fun. One of the younger dolphins had sidled up beside him, currently acting as a makeshift pillow. Occasionally, she nudges him in the side with her long snout, perhaps hoping he will change his mind and play. He nuzzles her rubbery skin and drifts off to sleep.

Matsukawa’s piercing cry jolts him awake.

It’s a sound so uncharacteristic of his eldest brother that it sends his heart into a frenzy before he’s even opened his eyes. The sky has darkened above them, the sun eclipsed by the underbelly of something huge. The water suddenly tastes different, the familiar salt replaced by an unpleasant tang of something metallic; something dead.

He hears a splash and the surface is disturbed by a figure descending into the water. Kunimi sees the flash of something long and pointy held in the creature’s grip.

_Humans._

Kunimi knows he should flee, but he’s frozen with fear. Beside him, the dolphin has no such qualms and catches him by the waist, depositing him inside a narrow grotto where his brothers are waiting. Immediately, they grab him and hold him tight, hushed declarations of relief sobbed between soft apologies. 

Kunimi glances at the entrance where his dolphin is already swimming away. The human is following after her but Kunimi can’t even yell after her in warning, the survival instinct throbbing at the base of his skull keeping him silent.

 

-

 

The sky already begins to bleed orange above and yet they’re still there. Kunimi can still hear the churning somewhere close by, the rough paddling of creatures not meant to be in the ocean. More had arrived since the first one. Kunimi had lost count of all the splashes that heralded their arrival in the water. Oikawa and Matsukawa are curled up on either side of him, their gills barely even peeling back as they take one fearful breath after another. 

“How many do you think are there?” Matsukawa whispers.

“Too many for us to drown.” Oikawa answers gravely.

They wait it out in silence, and Kunimi curls up tighter in his brothers’ arms.

 

-

 

When the distress of the encounter finally wears off, Kunimi looks back at the memory with an unnatural sense of calm, the images replaying in his head over and over, each fainter than the last, like the slipping sands of a peculiar dream.

That was his first real glance at a human, and it looked nothing like what he’d imagined. For one, it didn’t look that big, even smaller than dolphins. He wonders if maybe it’s a juvenile, but he’d heard from his brothers that juveniles rarely wander too far out into the ocean.

It swam clumsily too, using two separate limbs that flailed in the water. Kunimi wonders what those limbs were, what kind of environment the humans must live in and how they use those limbs to get around.

Its body was covered with flesh stretched over a lean frame, though there was a section of it that seemed differently textured from the rest, from its hips to halfway through its strange locomotive lower limbs, smooth and gleaming like dolphin skin.

In fact, if it weren’t for the appendages below their waist, Kunimi would almost dare to say that the humans look like them.

For the first time, he thinks of humans and, instead of fear, a small burst of curiosity blooms in his mind.

 

-

 

It has been several days since the near-encounter with the humans, and none have followed since then. His brothers finally allow him out of their sight, and Kunimi swims out with an excited flick of his tail, thoroughly enjoying his first chance to be alone in so long.

An hour into his solitary adventure, a shark passes him. Then another. Kunimi frowns as more come whizzing past. That’s unusual. Sharks only gather when there’s prey around. Kunimi licks at the water, only to taste a very faint trace of blood.

A rumble in his stomach reminds him that he hasn’t had his midday meal yet. Maybe if any of the sharks are feeling generous, he can ask them to hunt him a fish.

Kunimi trails after them, languidly following the trail of bubbles their movements left behind. The taste of blood is getting sharper, but no school is in sight. A drowned seagull, perhaps?

He catches sight of the gathered sharks, sees them circling a silhouette. He squints, trying to decipher what prey has attracted their attention, but as soon as he realizes what it is, his body instinctively angles to a halt, hastily swimming back to put some distance between him and the scene.

A human is tied up, weighed down to the ocean floor by a rock. It’s still alive, but an unnatural blue creeping into its skin as bubbles pour from its mouth, wide open in a scream muted by the ocean.

 _Is this a trap?_ he can’t help but think, looking up to search for any sign of a human vessel, or any other human lying in wait. _Would the humans really use one of their own as bait?_

He finds nothing. The ocean is clear and isolated and a quick lap at the water tells him that there is no one and nothing else nearby. The sharks continue to circle the human, assessing its viability as prey. One gets alarmingly close, sniffing the blood seeping from its head wound.

Kunimi doesn’t know what comes over him, but he rushes in with a shrill, reverberating shriek, startling all the sharks and sending them darting. The human doesn’t even seem to notice him. Its eyes are squeezed tightly shut and its face is contorted in intense pain. Kunimi frantically looks the bindings over, trying to find a way to get it free.

He can feel the human’s struggling weaken under his hands and, in a moment of panic, he swims lower to the single rope tying the human to the rock and begins to chew through it. Several of his teeth snap in the process, and he blearily sees the water in front of him cloud over with red but one last twist of his teeth does the job, severing the thick rope.

He looks up and the human is just barely moving, wriggling weakly. He hooks his arms around it and swims to the surface, faster than he has ever swam in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Kunimi breaks through the surface with a churn of seafoam, gills working frantically beneath the water. Tucked against him, the human is still limp, doesn’t even take a gasp of breath. Kunimi gets them inside a nearby cove with the help of the tide, the harsh sun disappearing beneath the arched rocks above. He holds his breath as he crawls out to land with his cargo, elbows digging uncomfortably into the sand and bits of broken shells and washed-up corals.

The human’s arms are still tightly bound to his torso and Kunimi wriggles towards the rocks on the shore, ripping a sharp-edged limpet from its perch with a silent apology. He detours into the water to take deep breath before dragging himself back to land.

It only takes a few seconds to free the human, the shell cutting through the ropes easily. Kunimi gathers the heavy rope and throws it aside, trying to decipher what to do now. He remembers that humans breathe through their mouths, the way whales and dolphins do with their blowholes. Gently, he pries the human’s mouth open and guides his ear above the gap, hearing a faint, hollow gargling. 

_If humans swallow enough ocean water, it will kill them._

His fins gently slide up the human’s chest, stopping just above a space where he can feel thin, curved bones beneath the skin. He focuses on the muffled call of ocean water within the human, gathered like little rivers within the narrow passages of his lungs and pooled inside its stomach. Shifting, he presses the flat of his fins against the area and pushes down, hard and sudden.

The effect is immediate; the human’s body lurches up and water _pours_ from its nose and mouth, along with some blood. It turns to the side and retches, shoulders heaving as its body expels the last of the water.

Kunimi knows that if he wants to escape, now would be a good time as any. The human is still too weak to fight him and he’s already sure it’s alive (though why he bothered to do that, he still isn’t sure).

The human lids peel back, revealing dark eyes, dull and disoriented. They roll lazily in their sockets and Kunimi freezes when the human’s eyes slide towards him.

His head fins twitch, but the human doesn’t even react to them. Doesn’t even react to anything. Its breathing is still worryingly labored, eyes open but sightless. Cautiously, Kunimi reaches out to touch the human’s face, frowning at the unnatural chill of its skin. The head wound is still sluggishly bleeding, lines of red trailing and disappearing behind its hairline. 

He slithers back to the ocean, swims towards the underside of the rocks protruding from the shore. There is a small kelp forest dancing with the waves and he grabs a clump of the longest leaves, uprooting them with a sharp tug before swimming back up.

The human hasn’t moved at all from where Kunimi left it. What if it was already too close to death when Kunimi found it? He drags himself out of the water and to the human’s side. He tears off the curled edges of the kelp and leans over the human’s head. Its eyes remain disconcertingly half-lidded, dark irises following him as he gently lifts the human’s head to loop the kelp around, in three layers, the way Oikawa taught him. The human groans softly at the first touch of the saltwater leaf, but its eyes slip shut soon after Kunimi ties the knot behind its head, the rise and fall of its chest easing into the rhythm of sleep.

 

-

 

Despite all instinct and common sense telling him otherwise, Kunimi stays. After wrapping the cut and inspecting the human for any other injuries, he slips into the water, watching.

Like the first human he saw, this one had a portion of those limbs covered in something black, but now that he’s close he realizes it’s not like dolphin skin at all. It’s not as rubbery or shiny, and doesn’t sit flush against the human’s skin. The limbs split at a point just below its pelvic bone and seem largely inflexible; bending only at two joints, just below where the odd black covering ended. They’re sparsely dusted with hair and, like how his tail fans out into a translucent fin, the joint at the end bends out into a bony body part, widening at the end where it splits again into five tiny stubs.

Kunimi tenses up when a twitch runs through the human, followed by a series of groans. The limbs shift, and its face scrunches up before its eyes open again.

“Shit.” the human groans, gingerly sitting up. It looks around the cove, then stops, eyes wide, when it sees him. It finally seems to take in his tail, the fins on either side of his head, but it doesn’t scramble back or run away, paralyzed in a mix of fear and shock.

Kunimi prepares to spring back into the water in case it attacks, but it just raises its fin to grasp its head. Kunimi notes the lack of colored webbing between its strangely long phalanges.

“Am I dead?”

Kunimi blinks. “No.”

The human doesn’t seem to be paying attention, oddly focused on tracing along the kelp wrapped around its head. It fixes him with an incredulous stare.

“What happened?” it asks warily.

Kunimi jerks his chin to the rope abandoned at the human’s right. “I found you tied to a rock at the bottom of the ocean.”

The human slowly reaches for it. Most of the ends are jagged, cut through with the shell, but the one in its hand is blood-soaked and visibly chewed through. The fin comes back up to touch the dressed wound.

“You saved me.” it says, eyes wide with disbelief.

Kunimi nods.

“Why?”

Kunimi doesn’t know how to answer, so he simply chooses not to. He plants his elbows in the sand and crawls his way back out, dragging a clump of kelp with him. The human doesn’t move as Kunimi settles beside it, tucking his tail beneath him. 

He gestures the human to bend lower. Oddly, it obeys easily, even kind enough to hold its dark hair back. Kunimi carefully peels away the dressing, clicking his tongue at the angry pink of the skin surrounding the wound.

 _Well, at least it isn’t bleeding anymore._ Kunimi thinks, preparing more seaweed to use as wrapping.

He can feel the human’s eyes trail his every movement, but most often the human’s gaze travels to his tail. Kunimi isn’t used to being ogled (he’s more familiar with other creatures admiring his brothers’ tails and ignoring his completely) but at the same time he can’t blame the human’s curiosity, given his own avid observations earlier.

Kunimi tosses the soiled dressing away and gently presses the end of the fresh kelp to the jagged dent, quickly pulling away when the human flinches sharply. 

“Sorry.” they say at the same time, and their gazes meet in the ensuing silence. The human’s eyes dart across his face, seemingly hesitant to meet his eyes. 

The human’s gaze lands on his mouth and it freezes, a soft gasp passes from its lips. Kunimi resolutely seals his lips over his cracked teeth and bleeding gums.

The human notices this and shrinks back, shame, or perhaps guilt, weighing his shoulders inward.

“So—”

“Unless you tied yourself to that rock, you have nothing to apologize for.” Kunimi cuts off brusquely, despite the throbbing protest in his gums. “Besides, what would you have had me do, leave you there?”

The human doesn’t answer and Kunimi pauses. He takes in his expression, fearful but with a touch of resignation, the dullness of something already dead. Even without oxygen, Kunimi can feel his chest puff up in irritation. He returns the touch of the kelp vindictively and the human yelps, jerking back and nearly knocking his head on the rock behind him. 

“What was _that_ for?”

The human is glaring at him, pain and indignation in its eyes. Kunimi thinks it’s a marked improvement. 

“No creature should give up on life so easily.” he mumbles, but the ice in his tone speaks volumes. “I thought your species was more stubborn than that.”

It doesn’t answer, staring at him with a look Kunimi can’t quite place. He reaches up, slowly this time, and the human doesn’t flinch away as he cleans the bloodstains on its face and redresses the wound.

The human gingerly touches the wrapping when he finishes, eyes averted. “Thanks.”

Kunimi would answer but he is already short of breath. He scurries back into the water, ignoring the human’s confused sounds and gasps in a breath when the tide mercifully slides a little higher inland, rejuvenating his shriveling lungs. He slides down until his gills are comfortably submerged below the water before looking back at the human.

“You can’t breathe on the surface.” it murmurs, fascination lending an airy quality to its voice. “Sorry, that was stupid of me to assume.”

“Many from the sea breathe up here as well.”

He says the words delicately, the ache in his gums and his recovering lungs still preventing proper speech. The human is staring intently at his mouth, brows furrowing in concern.

“It will heal.” Kunimi reassures. “The waters are good medicine.”

In retrospect, perhaps that wasn’t a very wise thing to say to a creature that had almost died within the very ocean Kunimi claims to be a healer, but the human smiles anyway.

“What’s your name?”

Kunimi blinks up at the human. It laughs and scratches its neck.

“Or…if you don’t go by names, that’s fine.” it explains. “I’m Kindaichi, by the way.”

Kunimi blinks again, weighing his options. His brothers have never warned him of any danger about giving away their names (then again, he highly doubts any of them have been in a situation like this). He looks up at the human and it’s curious, oddly anticipatory.

“My name is Kunimi.” he says, and finds no surge of regret as soon as he does.

“Kunimi?” the sound is just about right, but the human pronounces it oddly; says it too fast and puts emphasis where there shouldn’t be. Kunimi doesn’t mind.

“Kindaichi.” he tries in return, elastic tongue and spindly teeth struggling around the joint consonants. He thinks it doesn’t come out quite right, but Kindaichi brightens like the noontime sun and nods.

 

-

 

They exchange more information after, an easy rally of questions and answers thrown back and forth. He finds out through the initial questions that Kindaichi is male, that the limbs that made humans so unique are called _legs_. He learns other words like _knees_ and _feet_ and _toes_ , Kindaichi pointing to each part patiently as he recites their names.

Kindaichi even briefly demonstrates a human’s upright posture, and Kunimi doesn’t bother to hide his amazement as the human rises to his full height (“Stand”). He is even generous enough to move (“Walk”), three alternating sweeps of his legs, and Kunimi’s tail flutters with barely concealed delight, mouthing each new word and storing them away for later.

“What is this?” Kunimi asks when Kindaichi returns to the shoreline, reaching out to touch the black covering on thighs. Kindachi stiffens at the touch of his fin but doesn’t move away.

“T-These are my jammers.” Kindaichi answers, voice shaky. Kunimi wonders if he’s cold. “It’s what I usually wear when I go out to swim.”

Kunimi tilts his head. Kindaichi takes his fin and tugs it a little higher until he’s touching the tan flesh over his abdomen, same in texture as his own but noticeably warmer.

“This is my skin, but human skin is very sensitive to heat or cold, so we wear clothes. For protection.”

He slides Kunimi’s fin back to his jammers at the word _clothes_ and Kunimi hums. 

In return, he lets Kindaichi touch his tail, hiding his discomfort whenever his rough phalanges catch against his scales. Kunimi notices that he’s most interested in the area where scales melted into flesh, making awed, childish sounds as his touch shifted from skin to scale.

Kunimi sinks his tail back in the shallows once Kindaichi is satisfied. Kindaichi sits back on the sand, tucking his legs close to his chest.

“Honestly, when I first saw you I thought I was hallucinating.” Kindaichi chuckles. “I’ve lived close to the sea all my life and I’ve never seen any merpeople, so I thought it was just one of those stories.”

Kunimi tilts his head curiously. “What do the stories say about us?”

“They say that merpeople have this song,” Kindaichi starts, and Kunimi’s tail goes still, “and they use it to lure humans out of their boats so they can drag them into the sea. Is any of that true?”

Kunimi feels irritation creep into his expression, manifesting in the furrow of his forehead. “To drown humans is how we defend ourselves, but we never go actively seeking your people out, or drowning them when they don’t disturb us.” 

Kindaichi crouches meekly, effectively rebuked. Kunimi softens his voice.

“But it is true that merpeople have a song, but I’ve never heard of it being used to lure humans.” That would be stupid, Kunimi thinks, considering that one of the principles surrounding merpeople’s lives is to stay _away_ from humans.

Kindaichi’s feet shuffle, toes making little trenches in the sand. “What does the song sound like?”

Kunimi’s tail makes a loud, petulant splash in the water. “What do the stories say they sound like?”

“Haunting but beautiful.” Kindaichi says, eyes distant; like he’s reciting words taught to him by someone else. “Irresistibly sweet and sad, the welcoming hymn of death.”

Kunimi’s eyes roll in their sockets and his tail’s pattering starts up again. “I wouldn’t describe it that way.”

Kindaichi only hums in reply, and Kunimi takes that moment to look the human over. He is still pale and shivering, but the afternoon heat is keeping the worst of the cold at bay. The dressing seems to be doing its job; no fresh blood seeping from the edges of the kelp.

“What happened to you?” he finally dares to ask. He may not know a lot about humans, but he knows for sure that that was no accident.

Kindaichi’s gaze slides over to him, but their eyes don’t meet. His lips are pressed together in a thin line. “My father got into trouble with some bad people. I think they tried to kill me to get back at him.”

Kunimi understands killing to survive, killing to feed, but he has never understood killing for vengeance.

“Is your father a bad human?”

Kindaichi shakes his head worryingly quickly, face pinched. 

“He’s a fisherman. I think lately he couldn’t make enough money to support us just by fishing, so he started…doing other jobs.”

Kunimi’s tailfins flutter lightly. “What is jobs? Money?”

A ghost of a smile touches Kindaichi’s lips. “Money is something humans need to buy things like food. A job is something you do to get money.”

Kunimi frowns. “What does money look like?”

“They differ depending on the value. Some are small, flat disks made of metal, others are paper rectangles.” Kindaichi answers, using his fingers to mime the general shapes to him. Kunimi doesn’t recall ever using any item of that sort to get food. 

“You can get food here, no money needed.” 

As if to demonstrate, he reaches out to the cluster of limpets stuck to the rock, easy prey and suitable for a single meal.

Kindaichi smiles at him again but it holds an undertow of sadness, an expression that doesn’t suit him at all. “It’s not really that simple, where I live.”

Kunimi doesn’t say anything in response, letting his hand fall back into the water. The tide hisses and roils around him, marching higher with the sinking sun. Kunimi eyes the exit of the cave, wondering where Kindaichi will go from here. He will need proper treatment and food, and maybe those clothes he talks about. Nights around this season are particularly chilly, and it won’t do for him to be travelling around in the cold after his ordeal.

His stare lands on the coil of ruined rope and he digs his nails anxiously into the sand. “The people who tried to kill you…”

He falters but the meaning is already there. Kindaichi’s face hardens as the unspoken clauses echo throughout the cave. 

“I have some friends I could stay with. I’ll think of something.” Kindaichi uncurls from his defensive position slightly, grinning down at Kunimi. “But if they try to drown me again, at least I know you’ll be there to save me.”

Something about the way he smiles causes Kunimi’s stomach swoop low in his belly. He ducks beneath the surface under the guise of wetting his dried-out skin but he uses the cool water to dissipate the burn spreading along his face.

“I’m not your guardian.” he mumbles, and Kindaichi laughs good-naturedly above him.

The shadows of the stalactites and stalagmites have crawled alarmingly high up the cave in the time they’ve spent talking. Kunimi’s brothers will be expecting him home soon. 

His body curves as he prepares to swim back, but an alarmed noise from Kindaichi stops him.

“You’re leaving?” Kindaichi asks, voice so dismayed that Kunimi is almost tugged back to shore by his voice alone.

He doesn’t answer but Kindaichi looks resigned anyway. 

“Can I…can I see you again?”

Kunimi means to say no, or even just dive without giving an answer, but his gaze gravitates to the hopeful upturn of Kindaichi’s brows, the way his blunt teeth slip out to nip at his bottom lip, and his treacherous mouth is already forming around words.

“Tomorrow, sunrise.”

Kindaichi smiles—that large, earnest one that causes his entire disposition to light up brighter than the sun. Kunimi quickly slithers back into the ocean with his heartbeat echoing furiously in his chest.

 

-

 

It’s easy for Kunimi to avoid suspicion. There’s no reason for his brothers to assume that he’d go looking for trouble, and Kunimi is soft-spoken enough that his silence all throughout dinner is not unusual. He does try to be careful to not open his mouth too wide, lest his brothers catch sight of his broken teeth.

Oikawa, for politeness’ sake, still asks him to join him in song every night since his coming of age despite consistently being turned down. Tonight is no different (though Kunimi won’t be able to sing even if he _did_ want to) and Kunimi retires to his anemone early, as he is prone to do.

He had already spent the entire swim home pondering the day’s events, but still he can’t fathom why he’d agreed to see the human again. He can’t even fathom almost all the things he _did_. He looks back at the odd sensations he experienced while he was with Kindaichi, whenever he even _thinks_ of his face, his voice, his smile.

Frowning, Kunimi sits up when his stomach does the odd swooping thing again. His anemone had always been pleasantly temperate but he’s feeling strangely warm right now, and his heartbeat has picked up for no discernible reason. He hears the rustling of the fronds to his left and he turns to see his brother swimming in a tight circle, chasing away the small fish that took refuge between the feelers.

“Matsukawa,” he asks, mindful of his teeth, “do humans have the power to seduce with their voices?”

Matsukawa doesn’t even glance at him. “No. I’ve heard a few of them talking, whenever I swam close to the shore. Most of them actually have pretty unpleasant voices if you ask me.”

Kunimi can practically hear the unsaid _why_ floating in the waters between them, chooses to ignore it. He lies back down and curls up. So maybe it’s just the stress of the day making his body react oddly. 

Just as soon as he sets that aside, another one comes up to gnaw at his mind. Kunimi finds himself filling in the blanks of his earlier question: _will they be back_ , _will they try again_ , _will you be safe_.

_Will I even still see you tomorrow_

In the distance, Oikawa’s song begins to play alongside the murmur of the ocean. His middle brother’s voice is undoubtedly the most beautiful, and he always sings of lofty ideals like hope and peace and love; songs meant to uplift and give joy.

It lulls him to sleep, but it still doesn’t chase away his nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [plumtreeforest.tumblr.com](http://plumtreeforest.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

Kindaichi is there at sunrise, as promised; a clean white dressing wrapped around his head in place of the kelp Kunimi left there yesterday. Kunimi silently heaves a deep sigh of relief. Kindaichi kneels by the water, smiling wide and far too cheerfully as Kunimi swims to the shallow end, resting his elbows in the sand. 

“Kunimi! Hi!”

“Hello.” Kunimi greets in return, slightly muffled. Since yesterday, his gums have swelled up just a little. Even the one word causes the inside of his mouth to throb in protest. 

His eyes look over the strange coverings on Kindaichi’s body. He’s wearing something over his torso, loose and white, two straps hanging over his shoulders. His legs are covered in rougher material, brown like the sand. _Clothes_ an echo of Kindaichi’s voice from yesterday reminds him.

Kindaichi doesn’t seem to mind his wandering eyes, or if he did, he doesn’t show it. A pack hangs from his shoulder, darker brown, like the walls of a cliff-edge. Kindaichi sets it down in the sand and digs through it. Kunimi and his brothers have made packs before, from seaweed woven together, but this looks sturdier and more complex. Kunimi’s eyes dart to the small, blunt, metal teeth circling the opening. Is this perhaps the hollowed-out carcass of some animal?

“Ah! There it is.”

When Kindaichi reemerges, he’s holding something in his hands. He can’t see it from this angle but a sharp _crack_ resounds across the cove and suddenly, a new smell awakens in the air. Kunimi sniffs, encountering an alluring sweetness, a scent he can’t quite place.

“When I was a kid, I had some teeth removed, and my dad made me eat these. Try it.” Kindaichi explains as he passes it over. Kunimi blinks at it. He’d seen this item before, floating along the surface of the water, but he’s never known what it was.

He takes it with both fins. He peers down at it and inside it’s a sandy brown color, streaked with lines of a brighter color, almost amber-like even in the way it gleams. He opens his mouth in preparation to take a bite—

“No!” he yelled, almost causing Kunimi to drop it in surprise if Kindaichi hadn’t held onto his wrist to physically stop him. “You don’t eat the cup.”

Kunimi frowns at him incredulously. Well how was _he_ supposed to know that? “Cup?”

Kindaichi patiently takes the “cup” from him. He’s holding something else too, a small white stick, one end of it elliptical and caving inward like a mussel shell

“This is a cup.” Kindaichi taps at the side of it, releasing a clacking sound. He holds up the small stick with the shell-shaped end. “This is a spoon.”

He digs the round end into the cup then scoops out a small mound. “Open your mouth, and just eat the ice cream, not this.”

Kunimi obeys, and Kindaichi guides the food into his mouth. The touch of the cold stings his gums, enough to make him wince, but as soon as the shock fades, Kunimi feels the mild relief brought on by the temperature of the ice cream. Kindaichi tugs gently at the spoon and Kunimi allows it to slide out.

The taste isn’t something Kunimi can describe easily. He’s tasted a vague note of it in shellfish and fresh prey, but Kunimi can practically feel the sticky _sweetness_ roll thickly on his tongue, heady and addictive. It’s unique, but not overwhelming, the small salt crystals dispersed in the treat very reminiscent of the ocean.

“What is it?” he whispers, not even bothering to hide the awe in his voice.

“It’s sea salt caramel ice cream. Do you like it?”

Kunimi nods vigorously, unconsciously opening his mouth in a wordless call for more. Kindaichi snickers, clearly pleased with himself, but indulgently scoops more of the ice cream, bringing the spoon to Kunimi’s mouth.

This time there’s more of the sticky sweet-saltiness. He practically moans around the spoon. Dear Poseidon, his taste buds will never be the same ever again.

Kindaichi’s face breaks out into another grin. “I’ll bring you more when I come back!”

Kunimi’s tail flounces in the water excitably, but an inexplicable disappointment comes up after when Kindaichi lets go of the spoon and gives him the cup. His own hand clumsily digs into the treat as he eats, suddenly ravenous. He notices how the thick cream softens with time, melting until all that remains is a small pool of it at the bottom of the cup. He brings the rim of it to his mouth and drinks the rest.

The whole time Kindaichi watches him, and Kunimi’s skin prickles, still not used to being observed so avidly. He licks away the last of the cream on his lips, pleased to find that the throbbing pain in his mouth had lessened considerably.

“Thank you.” he mumbles as he gives back the empty cup, the spoon sitting inside. Kindaichi takes it with a smile.

When Kindaichi’s turns away to tuck the items back in his pack, he finally looks up at the bandage on Kindaichi’s head, the stress and panic of yesterday’s events coming up fresh in his mind. Kindaichi turns back to him and frowns, like he’s caught wind of his train of thought. 

“What?”

Kunimi chews the inside of his cheek, considering. “Has everything settled down yet?”

Kindaichi’s eyes narrow slightly, the expression on his face morphing into something ugly. Kunimi almost regrets asking.

“Last night I hid out at a friend’s house. He went to the police but apparently they were already on the case because…” and Kindaichi pauses here, his bottom lip disappearing behind a row of teeth, “my dad went missing.”

Kunimi looks up at him, at his too-damp eyes, at the anguish set in the furrow of his brow and the wrinkles on his forehead. He doesn’t know what to say. _Sorry_ seems horribly insincere, especially since he himself has no idea what it’s like to lose a father.

“What about the rest of your family?” he tries instead.

Kindaichi shrugs, coiling in on himself. “My father really is the only one I have left.”

“So, you’re not safe yet?”

“Not until the police catch them.”

Kunimi pauses to connect the information he has so far. “Police catch bad humans?”

Kindaichi nods. “The police advised me to lie low. This early in the morning not a lot of people are out yet, and I was careful to make sure nobody saw me on my way here.”

Kunimi’s heartbeat thuds painfully beneath his ribs. Suddenly, his headfins flare out, curving and amplifying sounds. He sniffs the air to make sure they’re alone. Beyond the sweet lingering aroma of the ice cream, there’s little more than the dankness of the cove, rancid bat waste and perhaps something rotting behind the rocks a few meters away, but Kunimi doesn’t relax.

“We shouldn’t have met.”

Kindaichi perks up, looking panicked. “Hey, don’t be silly.” 

“I’m not.” Kunimi fixes him with a stern glare. “I just want to know why you’re risking the life I saved by going out here just to see me again.” 

Kindaichi draws back, looking offended and hurt. Kunimi bites down an apology. This is what he wants. Kindaichi needs to leave. He’s not safe here.

“Yesterday didn’t feel like enough time.” Kindaichi reasons, and Kunimi’s eyebrow arches up as he continues. “I wanted to know more. I wanted to keep talking to you. All my life I’ve always thought your kind was a legend and—”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your life to satisfy curiosity?”

Kindaichi pauses, more in surprise at the statement than offended at being cut off. He shakes it off and his lips curl wryly. “Frankly, that’s apparently a very common cause of death for a lot of humans.”

Kunimi raises an eyebrow.

“But I came back mainly because I wanted to do something for you too.” Kindaichi continues. “You got injured saving my life.”

“The ice cream is enough.”

Kindaichi stares down at him and he glares, refusing to back down. Kindaichi sighs heavily, straightening up and patting the sand off of himself.

“I get it. Of course you don’t wanna see me. Sorry, I must’ve been very creepy.”

Kunimi’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Sorry I dragged you out here so early in the morning.” Kindaichi continues, sounding utterly dejected.

Kunimi tails swirls the water in agitated patterns, trying to come up with anything to say, but Kindaichi is already leaving. “No wait. Hey!”

“Goodbye, Kuni—ow!”

The shell Kunimi threw falls back onto the sand. Kindaichi is glaring indignantly at him, massaging the back of his head. Kunimi feels guilt pinch the corner of his mind, suddenly remembering that Kindaichi is still recovering from his wounds caused by yesterday’s incident.

Still, Kunimi holds his irate expression. “Don’t turn this on me! I was only worried.”

He pouts dolefully at him, still prodding at the back of his head. “Thank you, but I promise you don’t need to worry. I’ll be careful, now that I know people are actually trying to kill me.”

He sits down, crossing his legs in front of him. Kunimi watches the movements of the joints and muscles, still avidly fascinated, despite their conversation.

“I’ve been battling the ocean since I learned how to swim. I think I’m pretty confident about my resilience.”

Kunimi concentrates on the tan of his skin, the fully-developed muscles of his whole body, essential for braving the ocean. “When do humans usually learn to swim?”

“Some humans grow up without ever knowing how to swim, but I come from a family of fishermen, the ocean’s practically our second home.”

Kunimi’s eyes wander down, to the very clear line separating the darker, compact sand and the loose grains untouched by the ocean. “Must be nice, not having to choose.” 

Kunimi almost bites his tongue as soon as the words come out. He didn’t mean to say it out loud but he can tell from Kindaichi’s expression that he had heard. 

Suddenly, he’s standing, eyes bright with determination. “Someday, I’ll show you what my home’s like! We have a bath, you’ll love it! We also have other kinds of food like meat and fruits and corn!”

Kunimi just gapes at him, confused at the flurry of unfamiliar words, not entirely sure how to respond to this sudden display.

Kindaichi seems to finally read the atmosphere, his face coloring with splotches of read as he clears his throat, averting his gaze.

“Ah, sorry.” Kindaichi laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as his body loosens up. “When things have settled down, I’ll show you everything I just talked about.”

Kunimi frowns at him dubiously. “If other humans see me—”

Kindaichi shakes his head. “My friend’s really trustworthy. We can get you out and back using his jeep. No one will notice!”

Kunimi blinks at the new word but shakes off that curiosity. Maybe he’ll worry about it when it actually becomes relevant.

“Yesterday, you mentioned something about money. How you use it as a means of exchange?”

Kindaichi confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere line of inquiry. “Yeah?”

“How did your father’s being a fisherman help him get money?”

Kindaichi hums, putting a hand on his chin. “Well, there are some pretty valuable things in the ocean. Fish, squid, octopus, crabs, shrimp…he caught them and the people give him money in return for the stuff he catches. He also goes pearl hunting sometimes, since that racks up more money, but lately it’s been harder to find any.” 

Kunimi nods. Oysters only produce pearls in the most pristine of waters, and Kunimi has long been aware of the steadily growing murkiness of the water around these parts. He figures it makes sense that humans find the riches of the ocean appealing too. Pearls are a luxury much coveted by his own people, often used as courtship tokens. 

He remembers Matsukawa going through all the trouble of asking clams to make him enough pink pearls for a circlet, to give as a gift. He had dragged Kunimi along too, since he was much better at communicating with shellfish than he was.

Kindaichi seems to be waiting for an explanation, but a dull _thunk_ from the entrance of the cove snaps them both to attention. Kindaichi is looking around, and Kunimi instinctively hunches back in the water.

It was, perhaps, just a bat, or some other clumsy animal, but Kunimi knows Kindaichi shouldn’t take any chances.

“Listen, I gotta go.” Kindaichi says, quickly slinging his pack over his shoulder. “Sorry I had to cut that short, but I promise I’ll come back when I can.”

“Are you sure that’s a good—”

One of Kindaichi’s phalanges had come up to rest on top of his lips. His gaze is stubborn and intense and there’s _something_ there that makes Kunimi slightly uncomfortable.

“Sunrise.” Kindaichi says, and he’s gone before Kunimi can even respond.

 

-

 

Some days he enters the cove and Kindaichi is not there, does not come even after Kunimi waits far past sunrise, anxiety weighing heavily in his chest. Some days he finds, instead, little cups of ice cream left out for him, one for each day that Kindaichi failed to meet him. Most days they are melted and already warm, but Kunimi still devours them eagerly and disposes the cups far out into shore, behind rocks unreachable even by high tide. 

On these days, he uses the unforeseen spare time to swim out near the beach, where he’s witnessed lots of humans gather. Most of them do not swim out too far, and Kunimi observes them from behind a cluster of rocks, a safe distance away.

Today, there aren’t a lot of humans out, but he sees several juveniles with their parents, taking short excited steps into the water, clumsily clapping their hands against the surface. They’re kept afloat by their parents’ watchful hands, others by buoyant loops attached to their waists.

His fins have long since befriended the weight of the ocean, the rhythmic reach and pull that navigates him through its waters. The flexible whip of his tail has already mastered just how to steer him, to fight against the current. From the moment of his birth, the ocean is all he has ever known, the history of the changing tide is seated deep within his bones, and it tells him that _here is your home_.

Out there on land, his elbows will quickly crack and bleed beneath the roughened sand, his scales will dry out and flake off, his tail will be utterly useless. The throbbing ache at the base of his skull returns, tells him he’s foolish to even consider it, but the laughter of a juvenile human is carried to him by the wind, and the primeval call of instinct falls silent.

He sees a pair of human mates trekking the sand that seems to stretch for miles. He arches his body higher up the rock and sees tall, intimidating structures just past the greenery. He closes his eyes and hears a cacophony of a life much different from his, and a rather different ache awakens in his chest.

 

-

 

He and Kindaichi finally meet again near the end of the lunar cycle. He looks no worse than the last time Kunimi saw him, only paler, with the sunkenness of his eyes showing that he’s not getting enough sleep. All that remains of the wound on his forehead is a pale, jagged scar, reaching beneath his hairline.

His tail patters on the water when Kindaichi pulls his hand from his pack to reveal another tub of ice cream, this time the perfect temperature, allowing him enough of a bite as he devours the treat.

“You were gone for a long time.” he says, as he lifts the lid. Kindaichi scratches the back of his head as he mumbles an apology, sitting down.

“I didn’t expect that you’d still be waiting for me.”

Kunimi scoffs. “You can’t expect me to stop looking out for all the ice cream you leave behind.”

Kindaichi laughs. Kunimi tries to hide his expression by focusing on the ice cream, spooning a generous amount into his mouth. “Looks like I’ve discovered the perfect merpeople bait.” 

Kunimi rolls his eyes.

“How have you been?” Kindaichi asks, cordial as ever. Kunimi wonders if he ever gets tired of being so nice all the time.

“I’m okay.” he replies, sipping away the bit of melted cream at the sides of the cup. “You?”

There is a pause, like Kindaichi’s figuring out how to best compress a lunar cycle’s worth of stories. Kunimi takes the time to watch Kindaichi’s smile soften at the edges, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Well, I couldn’t really leave much in the past month since I’ve had police escorts on me, but they managed to catch one of the guys involved, and he said that my father’s still alive.”

Kindaichi’s breath hitches and Kunimi bristles when he recognizes it as a sob. Kindaichi quickly covers his eyes with his wrist. “They say he’s being held hostage for something, but he said he didn’t know…But he swears he’s alive. My dad’s _alive_ , Kunimi.”

Kunimi blinks quickly, not at all knowing what to do. Stiffly, he reaches out and touches the bare skin of Kindaichi’s knee, patting it gently. 

A soft laugh, Kindaichi lifts his arm and rubs it across his eyes. Kunimi doesn’t comment at the wet tracks gleaming on the corners of his eyes the bridge of his nose. Kindaichi reaches down to pat his fin. Kunimi’s throat goes dry, but he doesn’t pull away. 

Companionable silence fills the air. Kunimi still doesn’t know what to say, but he thinks Kindaichi doesn’t need him to. The tide rolls in higher and Kindaichi releases Kunimi’s fin to playfully smack the water, the ripples tickling Kunimi’s arm.

“What do you guys usually do under there?”

Kunimi returns his attention to his ice cream, savoring the slow slide of it down his throat before answering. “Nothing much. Sometimes my brothers and I play with passing shoal, or we take a trip to see other merpeople, or to see big events like migration.”

“So there are more of you out there?” Kindaichi asks, voice melodic with curiosity.

Kunimi nods. “Most of them live very far out, but my brothers and I mostly visit a small colony up north.”

“How far?”

“It was a long swim. Three days, I think. We went to visit my brothers’ mates.” Kunimi wrinkles his nose at the term. “Or…soon-to-be. They’re not old enough to mate yet, but I’m pretty sure when the time comes it’s obvious who they’ll pair with.”

Kunimi has never bothered to learn their names. Memories of them are scraps of images and voices; of pale pink and deep green tails, sturdy builds and soothing voices, far too many _Kunimi look how you’ve grown_ s and teasing tugs at his tailfins.

Kindaichi goes oddly silent, toes digging into the sand as his feet shuffle. Kunimi’s eyes narrow at the seemingly purposeless act. 

“Do you have a mate too?” he asks, so soft that Kunimi almost doesn’t catch it.

He recalls Oikawa’s and Matsukawa’s smitten faces, their sickening giddiness as they skirted around their intendeds like newly-hatched guppies. He shivers with secondhand embarrassment, face going sour.

“I haven’t been really interested in those things.”

Kindaichi loosens up, like he’d released a breath he was holding. Strange. “Do you and you brothers migrate?”

“No, but we travel often. They drag me along even if I don’t want to.”

“So you’ve seen the other islands? Enoshima, or Hokkaido?”

“I’m not sure. We’ve encountered many different landmasses, but we don’t call them by any name.” 

Kindaichi tilts his head curiously. “How do you know where you are, or where you’re going?”

Kunimi slurps down the last of the melted cream as he thinks of how he can possibly explain it: how the feel and taste of the ocean differs when he’s near the shore of a specific island, or as he travels along underwater trenches or the usual path from home and to this cove.

“The waters are very distinct to us. The color is different, as is the taste, even how it feels as you swim through it.” he tries, and upon being met with Kindaichi’s blank stare, sighs heavily and nudges the empty tub over to him.

“Would you like me to show you?”

 

-

 

After Kindaichi’s last experience in the water, Kunimi didn’t think he would be so eager to dive back in, but Kindaichi takes to the idea in a heartbeat, even bragging about being prepared and having his jammers beneath his clothes. Kunimi smiles. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated the son of a fisherman.

Kindaichi greets the sea like an old friend, smoothly sinking into its embrace and allowing the tide to carry him easily He lets Kindaichi play in the shallows, easing into the water’s temperature and awakening long-stagnant muscles, wearing nothing but the black jammers Kunimi first met him in.

“Where are we going?” Kindaichi asks as he floats on the surface, on his back and flapping his arms like birds’ wings, pulling himself farther out.

“A nearby island.” Kunimi answers simply. Kindaichi hums, then backflips into the water. 

They leave before the sun gets the chance to rise any higher, Kindaichi saying something about how he didn’t bring sunblock, whatever that is. Kunimi slows down considerably for Kindaichi’s sake, adopting a pace in time with his languid paddling.

He dives a little just to see how it looks—the knowledge that this is the first time he’s seeing a human swim up close too tempting to resist—but all he sees are Kindaichi’s legs kicking lazily beneath the water, his fins pulling himself forward, phalanges squeezed tight together to keep water from simply passing through the spaces between. Kunimi looks on, the disappointment undeniable. No wonder he’s so slow.

“Is this how humans swim?” he asks when he comes back up, trying not to sound too haughty about it. Kindaichi laughs, albeit strained since his neck is angled awkwardly.

“I’m saving it for when we’re a little farther away.” he says, and Kunimi can only blink, confused.

Below them, the sand sinks steeply onto a deeper trench of the ocean floor. If Kindaichi stands vertical, he won’t be able to touch the bottom, despite his height. Most of the corals here are pitiful, pale things, stubborn even as the floor around them remains desolate. He focuses on swimming ahead so he won’t have to see them. 

Once they reach deeper waters, with no land in sight, larger reefs of corals emerge in Kunimi’s view. He already feels the difference, the lighter, smoother feel of the water on his skin, the way his gills expand wider to take in the fresher air, the startling clarity. He looks at Kindaichi expectantly, but he continues to swim, as if finding nothing of note.

 _Well, maybe humans aren’t as sensitive to it after all._ he thinks, with a hint of disappointment. He blows a burst of bubbles from his gills and continues on.

A little farther off, Kunimi notices Kindaichi’s movements shift. His legs kick up and down, his arms alternatingly slicing through the water, dragging it back to propel him forward. Every two turns Kunimi notices that he angles his head out of the water to breathe.

It’s a completely different style of swimming, not as natural or as elegant as how he and his brother’s swim, but Kunimi is completely taken by the ease at which Kindaichi’s body melds with the ocean’s currents, how his body streamlines across the water, head hunched low between his shoulders for minimum resistance.

In his distracted state, he nearly bumps into a passing school of mackerel.

 

-

 

The longer they swim, the more frequently Kindaichi has to take a break. Swimming must take a lot more strain on humans than Kunimi previously thought. Kindaichi swims relatively gracefully, but every now and then his movements fall out of rhythm, shifting his weight to float vertical, breathing heavily with his head above the surface. The fifth time it happens, an idea pops into Kunimi’s mind.

Kunimi knows that human mates have a custom of linking their fins together. He’d seen it performed quite often by the pairs that walked along the shore. Sometimes he sees parents doing it to their younglings too, to keep them from wandering too far out of their sight, or to guide them in a particular direction.

His own fins twitch with the temptation. He wonders if he’ll offend Kindaichi if he tries; if it’s a ritual reserved only for those who are permitted that sort of intimacy, but Kindaichi is having a hard time keeping up, and if they are to make it to their destination before nightfall, Kunimi will have to help him along.

Sometimes humans slip their phalanges in the space between the other’s; possible only because their own fins lacked webbing (logical, Kunimi thinks, because those fins don’t seem to contribute to the humans’ movement). He recalls, however, another way humans do it, simply curling their fins around each other’s. 

Kunimi looks back and sees that Kindaichi has taken a break once again, floating with his head above the water, legs kicking lazily underneath. He makes a sharp U-turn and swims back.

He lifts his head just halfway above the surface, meeting Kindaichi’s confused stare. 

“You can go ahead.” Kindaichi gasps, struggling to grin. “I’ll catch up.”

Kunimi shakes his head. He inhales a large bout of courage and extends his fin out to the surface and towards Kindaichi.

He blinks at it for a while, Kunimi practically hears his thoughts aligning in his head.

“You want to hold my hand?”

Kunimi blinks. “Hand?”

Kindaichi lifts his fin up and out of the surface, flexing his phalanges. “Hand.” he says.

 _Ah._ Kunimi nods. “If that’s okay.”

“But we won’t be able to swim properly if you do.”

“I won’t be as fast but it will still be faster than if you swim on your own. I’ll pull you.”

Kindaichi is eyeing his fin thoughtfully. Kunimi raises his eyebrow at him. 

“Did I perhaps wound your pride as a fisherman by implying that you’re a slow swimmer and offering to pull you along like deadweight?”

Kindaichi grunts, the tips of his ears coloring a harsh pink, but he takes his fin easily, only the barest embarrassment on his face.

“If you need to come up for air, tap here.” Kunimi pokes at the strip of skin between his gills, a sensitive area for most merpeople; Kindaichi nods and Kunimi waits until he’s taken enough breath before pulling him in a dive.

Kindaichi’s squinting beneath the water, but Kunimi can see the mild hitches in his breath, the quick darting of his eyes across the sights, struggling to absorb it all: rainbows of corals and fish shimmering as the light strikes their winding shapes, colors dancing on their iridescent surfaces.

Kunimi has long since appreciated these sights, especially now they’re slowly becoming a rare treat, but he finds his eyes straying from the floor to Kindaichi’s face, drawn by the slow curve of Kindaichi’s mouth, the subdued laughter behind his bubbling breaths.

 

-

 

He brings him to a small island where he and his brothers used to play with newly-hatched turtles just before they slunk into the ocean. There are none there now, but sun is warm and pleasant, regardless, and Kindaichi lies back on the sand the tide rolling past his ears, giddy bouts of laughter passing from his lips.

“That was amazing.” Kindaichi gasps. “Thanks for that.”

Kunimi hums, his own lips twitching at the corners. He lowers his body to meet the incoming wave, breathing another fresh round of oxygen, then suddenly remembers another reason he brought Kindichi to this particular island. 

“Wait here.” he instructs Kindaichi, and dives beneath the surface.

He traces the path to one of the oyster beds he knows surrounds the island. He fans his tail against the ocean floor, displacing sand and revealing clusters of rough, rock-like shells underneath. He sifts through the oysters, drawing a random one and gently tapping its upper shell twice. The oyster in his palm blearily opens. From the thin opening, Kunimi can see the bumps indicative of pearls. He slips a thumb between the opening and the oyster easily opens by itself, it peels back the mucous layers keeping the pearls in place, three in total, and Kunimi quickly takes them into his palm.

He puts the oyster down after a quick _thank you_ tapped onto its shell.

When he reemerges, Kindaichi is still lying where he left him, eyes closed and seemingly content to stay there like some beached whale. He greets him with a smile and Kunimi extends his fin to him and unfurls it to reveal the three pearls sitting on his palm, gleaming beneath the sun. His eyes go wide at the sight of them, unsticking himself from the sand and hastily sitting up.

“What’s…what’s that?”

“Pearls.” Kunimi answers, then pauses to consider it. “This _is_ what you humans call pearl, isn’t it?”

“No. I mean yes but…I mean what are you giving it to _me_ for?”

“You get money for it, right?”

The pieces finally seem to connect in Kindaichi’s head but to Kunimi’s surprise, he shakes his head and pushes Kunimi’s fin away.

“No way.” Kindaichi insists. “I can’t take this.”

Kunimi frowns. Was it perhaps a rude gesture to simply give away items like this? He racks his brain for any clues Kindaichi may have previously given.

“Then it’s in return for you taking me out into land.” he tries. “I’m giving it to you in advance so I’m sure you’ll do it.”

“You don’t have to give me anything in return for _that_.”

Trust this stupid human to be noble even when he doesn’t have to be. “Then this is a gift. To refuse it would be the highest offense among my people.”

It’s a lie of course, but Kindaichi falls for it easily, eyes going comically wide. Kunimi uses that opportunity to take his hand and drop the peals there. For a moment, he eyes them, the smooth shine of nacre like bright little eyes. Kunimi glares at him, daring him to try and give I back or, Poseidon forbid, throw it into the ocean.

Kindaichi’s face molds into a resigned smile, closing his hand around the pearls and holding tight.

“Thank you.”

 

-

 

Kindaichi had wandered farther out inland, perhaps wanting to see what the island had to offer. Kunimi doesn’t know what dangers are present inland, but he supposes he can trust Kindaichi’s survival instincts on land better than he can trust them in the water. Still, closes his eyes and listens keenly for the crunch of leaves, the patter on soft soil.

He reappears a little later, from behind large fan-like leaves that grew up to his waist. Kunimi notices the shell of a sea snail in one hand, its opening large enough to slip the pearls in—for safe keeping, perhaps. He deposits the pearls into the shell then his hand disappears inside a slit at the side of his leg that Kunimi hadn’t noticed before. When his hand reemerges, the distinct shape of the seashell is flush against his thigh. Kunimi eyes it, fascinated. 

“This? It’s a pocket.” Kindaichi says glancing at the item in question. “Most clothes have it. We keep things in it so we don’t have to hold them all the time. Convenient, right?”

Kunimi nods, though he doesn’t understand why pockets would be a need if humans have packs too, but again, he saves that curiosity for another time. 

“What did you find?”

“There’s an endless supply of coconut in there. I think I even saw a few hares scuttling around.” 

Kunimi doesn’t know what a hares or coconuts are, but they’re probably good things. Kindaichi looks happy at the information. He lies on his side with a deep sigh, body curling up slightly.

“When I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to live in an island.” he whispers, like it’s a secret. “Far away.”

Kunimi rests his cheek on his folded arms. “Away from the other humans?”

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. The other kids kept making jokes about me, since my family didn’t have much money, and because I sometimes helped my dad when he went out fishing. Eventually, I realized that trying to fit in just more trouble than it was worth.” 

Kindaichi shrugs, but it doesn’t come as casual as he probably intended it to be. It’s an old wound that still festers, that goads Kindaichi into poking at it from time to time to relive the shadow of the pain. A wave of anger blinds Kunimi for a brief moment. He doesn’t understand why Kindaichi’s dedication to his father or their lack of resources would be something to joke about.

His train of thought is disturbed by Kindaichi lying on his side, stretching out his long body then turning to face the sun. 

“But I appreciate the ones that stayed.”

He’s smiling fondly. Kunimi wants to know who he’s seeing, a strange gratitude welling up inside him. 

“I only had my brothers growing up. I love them but sometimes they’re tiring to be around too, so I see the appeal in wanting to be alone.”

Kunimi doesn’t know why he brought up his brothers. He always tries not to think about them when he wanders off to meet Kindaichi. The mere mention of them brings up their faces, then a slew of other thoughts and emotions— _liesbetrayalhowlongdoyouthinkyoucankeepthisup_ —that Kunimi doesn’t want to acknowledge or deal with, not wanting to waste time worrying when he rarely ever sees Kindaichi.

Kindaichi turns his head slightly, the three-quarter view of his smiling face—sunlit and slightly reddened at cheekbones and the tip of his nose _are his eyes really that brown?_ —dispelling any and all of Kunimi’s thoughts. 

“Maybe we could be alone here together.”

Kunimi sharply cuts his tail through the water, drenching Kindaichi with the resulting wave.

“Stupid.” he mutters, ducking, working to lower his suddenly fast heart rate.

“Hey!” Kindaichi gripes, dragging his hand down his face to wipe off the water. He dives for him with a battle cry, but Kunimi gracefully propels himself away. 

Even though they’re in the shallows, Kunimi still has a decided advantage, using his tail to flick water in Kindaichi’s face and darting far from his reach. He swipes for his ankles and sends him falling backwards into the water. Kunimi quickly leans over him, presses him down with one hand on his shoulder and the other between his legs, smirking when Kindaichi goes rigid beneath him.

“Did you really think you’d win against me in the water?”

Kindaichi, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to be paying attention. His face is red, and he feels alarmingly hot despite being under the water. Kunimi frowns, his joy morphing into concern. 

“Um …” he starts, his face a shade of red that Kunimi didn’t even knew existed. “Kunimi…”

“What?” something must be really wrong, if he can’t even form a sentence. Kunimi quickly looks the water over for any signs of blood.

“That is…” there seems to be nothing, Kunimi assesses, in fact most of the blood in Kindaichi’s body seems to be concentrating on his neck and face, “you’re actually touching a very…private area.”

Silence. Even the tide seems to take its time before crashing back in.

He jerks back like he’d been pushed, left fin and face tingling oddly. He turns away from Kindaichi, willing away the heat crawling up his body. He remembers the first time he touched Kindaichi there and he covers his face with his right fin, groaning softly.

“Why didn’t you say anything _before_?!”

“Well I didn’t think you meant anything bad by it back then, so I didn’t mention it!” Kindaichi screeches, and his volume doesn’t help quell Kunimi’s desire to just dissolve into seafoam to escape the humiliation.

Behind him, Kindaichi is getting up from the water, the ripples in the water telling Kunimi that he’s walking over to where he is. He steadies his composure as Kindaichi’s steps slow to a halt, but as he turns to face him, he’s hit with a giant splash of water.

Kunimi shrieks indignantly, more from surprise than anything else. He levels Kindaichi with a glare but Kindaichi only looks back smugly, arms crossed.

“We’re even.”

Kunimi launches a bigger wave of water towards him with his tail, mentally adding another notch to his own score. Kindaichi laughs good-naturedly and shakes his head, droplets from his hair flying everywhere.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that much of a big deal.” Kindaichi reassures with a gentle tone as he slicks back his hair. Kunimi’s cheeks go warm again at the reminder. “Accidents happen, right?”

“Ours aren’t quite so _exposed_ ,” he says the last word spitefully, and his left fin tingles again, “so touching it is reserved for mates.”

Kindaichi squints at him. “Do I have to marry you now to restore your honor?”

Kunimi pivots and slaps Kindaichi with his tail fin.

 

-

 

On their return trip, Kindaichi takes his fin without prompting.

Kunimi curses himself for losing track of time. He tugs Kindaichi’s hand, steering them to a shortcut. Kindaichi gurgles but doesn’t pull away.

Kunimi’s heart thuds louder in his chest at the dimming light. The night seems to approach far too quickly for his liking. He works his core muscles harder, abandoning grace for speed to accommodate Kindaichi’s added weight, the churning of his tail beneath the water deafening in the silence. 

He opens his mouth at recognizes that they’re close, at least. The water tastes saltier, feels heavier, thicker around him. This shortcut should lead them straight to the beach’s mainland, but Kindaichi should be able to swim back to the cove on his own.

Lost in thought and too focused on getting them home, he almost doesn’t notice Kindaichi tugging on his fin until he squeezes tight, to the point of pain. Kunimi looks back and his eyes are wide, slightly panicked as he jerks his head to something behind them—

“Kunimi!”

In any other situation, that voice would have been comforting to hear, or mildly irritating at worst. Now, it makes Kunimi’s blood run cold. He only has time to see a flash of it at the corner of his vision, time for his heart to skip a few beats at the sight of mint-white tails slicing through the water like starving predators before he’s pulled away, Kindaichi’s hand ripped from his fin as a pair of arms holds him back. He cries out, but Oikawa comes up behind Kindaichi, reaching to close his fin around Kindaichi’s mouth and nose, easily covering more than half of his face.

Kunimi screeches, loud and shrill, scraping the walls of his throat on its way out, and it shocks Oikawa enough for Kindaichi to kick himself free. Oikawa snarls and catches him in his grip again, lips peeling back to reveal sharp teeth.

Kunimi elbows Matsukawa, the point of the bone digging inside the slit of his gills, and escapes his brother’s loosened grip. He darts between Oikawa and Kindaichi, an arm out to physically stop his brother from launching forward.

“Go!” he shrieks, but it’s garbled beneath the water. Regardless, Kindaichi understands, swimming away so fast his legs are but a blur, lost behind a torrent of bubbles.

Even in the chaos, Kunimi can see Kindaichi angling his head back, meeting his eyes. 

_Sunrise_ he mouths, with a smattering of bubbles. Kunimi sighs heavily. The fool.

He doesn’t want to look at them at first, but the dreadful atmosphere soon becomes too much to take. He turns to his brothers, both tense and bearing matching looks of confusion and betrayal. Kunimi finds it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Kunimi,” Oikawa growls, voice adopting an ice-cold timbre, face twisting with a rage that makes Kunimi’s tail tremble. “What was _that_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ducks flurry of vegetables*
> 
> I _know_ it's late I'm sorrrryy work and midterms and thesis and *sobs into my coffee*
> 
> Don't worry though, I swear to finish any fic I post, you can count on that! So I hope you enjoy this chapter. By the way things are looking, the next might be the last. Warning y'all again, the ending has already been written, so if MCD bothers you I strongly suggest turning back now.
> 
> (But again I'm strongly considering writing an alternate happy end but idk how...? We'll see, we'll see *shrugs forever*)

**Author's Note:**

> *sips tea in the face of an approaching shitstorm*
> 
> [plumtreeforest.tumblr.com](http://plumtreeforest.tumblr.com)
> 
> I also made art for this [here](http://plumtreeforest.tumblr.com/post/138093332111/day-3-of-kinkuni-week-au-for-a-fic-to-be-posted)!


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